


When What Happens in Antiva Follows You Home to Kirkwall...

by Penthesilea1623



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: A Happy Accident AU, F/M, Satinalia, Unplanned Pregnancy, angsty follow up chaters, from an anonymous question on tumblr, think twice before asking me for sequels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:24:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penthesilea1623/pseuds/Penthesilea1623
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spur of the moment trip with Isabela to Antiva for Satinalia has unintended consequences and Annie Hawke turns to her best friend Anders for help.</p><p>Takes place in the "A Happy Accident" universe.</p><p>Yes, it's an AU of an AU.  Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Problem

**Author's Note:**

> I got an anonymous message on tumblr, pointing out that while I had stories, both modern AU and 'medieval' Dragon Age where Sebastian Vael ends up raising Anabel/Annie's child by Sebastian, I didn't have any where Anders was raising Sebastian's child and did I see that happening ever?
> 
> Over 5000 words later, here it is.

“So I’ve got a little problem. I think. It might not be. But it probably is. A problem I mean.“

Anders looked up from his computer to find Annie standing there. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence: she frequently popped in if she happened to be passing by the clinic, and she usually brought lunch or dinner if it happened to be the time for them.

But she wasn’t carrying any food now, and she was still talking, babbling, even for Annie, even if you factored in the speed at which she usually spoke.

She was shaking her head. “No, it isn’t a problem. I refuse to see it as that, even if it is a problem. It doesn’t have to be a ‘problem’. It could just be a complication, couldn’t it? A challenge even.” She looked up at him hopefully, and he realized she was wringing her hands together. She was nervous. 

Anders frowned, beginning to worry now. Annie Hawke was never nervous, not in the three years he’d known her. He swung his legs off of his desk and stood, crossing to the door of his office and closing it, before turning to face her. “What’s going on?” 

She looked up at him with those extraordinary blue-green eyes, and said the last thing he expected her to say.

“I’m pregnant.” She clapped her hand over her mouth as if she hadn’t expected it either.

For a moment he could only stare at her, for long enough that she dropped her hand from her mouth and hit him lightly on the arm. 

“Say something!” She demanded. “Be a doctor if you can’t be a friend, but say something!”

The doctor reflex kicked in before the friend. It made sense – he’d been practicing that one longer. “Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

“Eleven. Four different brands.” She said glumly.

“And they said…” He knew the answer before she spoke.

“Positive.”

Eleven. Positive. “All eleven?” 

“Yes.”

His brain still wasn’t processing it. Eleven positive home pregnancy tests. “How did you even pee enough to take eleven pregnancy tests?” He asked.

Her mouth fell open.“Really? I tell you I’m possibly pregnant and that’s your question?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m a bit gobsmacked.” He admitted.

She glared at him.“You and me both, mister.” She said, sinking down into a chair. “A gallon of iced tea, that’s how. I’m a little wired now.” She confessed after a moment. She looked suddenly very small, and very young, and more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

He pulled up the other chair beside her and sat down. “Not surprising, really.” He reached for her hand and she immediately grasped it, her small fingers wrapping tightly around his. He reached for her second hand and she grasped that just as tightly. He rubbed his thumbs soothingly over the backs of her hands. “You do realize that eleven positive pregnancy tests pretty much eliminate the word ‘possibly’ from the equation.” He asked gently.

Her lower lip began to tremble and she caught it between her teeth. Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded, apparently incapable of speech.

To his surprise he felt his own throat tighten and he quickly forced himself back into doctor mode. “All right.” He released her hands and leaned back in the chair. “First things first.” _Who the Void is the father?_ “How far along do you think you are?”

She swiped quickly at her eyes. “Umm…” She said, and frowned in concentration.He saw her moving her fingers and realized she was calculating, counting backwards from… 

“Never mind that. When do you think it happened?”

She looked relieved. “The last day of Satinalia.” She informed him with complete certainty.

Ah, Satinalia and the end of summer baby boom that inevitably followed. He quickly did the math. Holy Maker. He turned to look at her, completely appalled. “You waited almost four months to see a doctor?” He demanded.

She scowled at him. “There may have been an element of denial involved.”

He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. Four months. Second trimester. It wasn’t too late to terminate the pregnancy if she wanted to, but even as the thought formed he knew that wasn’t what she wanted. He frowned suddenly. Satinalia. His eyes opened. “You were in Antiva for Satinalia.” He immediately began picturing suave mustachioed Antivan men with their accents and complete lack of inhibitions or propriety.

Annie gave a small shrug. “What can I say? Apparently the billboards are wrong and occasionally what happens in Antiva gets brought back to Kirkwall.” She moved her hand to cover her lower abdomen. Was it his imagination or was there a small curve there? That damned trip to Antiva.

He remembered exactly when she’d decided to go. It had been a Friday. Satinalia began on the following Monday. He and Annie had been on the couch, he sitting, she lying with her legs draped across his, the way they inevitably ended up.

Isabela had burst through the door and informed them that she’d made Varric change the schedule at the bar and to pack a suitcase because they were going to Antiva for Satinalia.

Anders had scoffed. “Antiva during Satinalia? You must be mad.” 

Isabela hadn’t even spared him a glance. “Well then it’s a good thing it wasn’t you I was inviting. It’s all arranged, Kitten.” She said to Annie. “And I won’t take no for an answer. We’re staying with my friend Zev. You’ll love him. Everyone should experience an Antiva City Satinalia at least once in their lives, and besides you need more fun in your life. You’re getting as boring and stodgy as Dr. Doom and Gloom here.” She added, carelessly gesturing at Anders.

Annie had apparently agreed, because she’d run upstairs to pack and she and Isabela had left for Antiva the very next morning.

He’d known it would end disastrously. _Isabela_. He was going to throttle her when they got home. 

“It’s not Isabela’s fault.” Annie said, apparently reading his mind. “She wasn’t even there when I…” Her voice trailed off and she blushed, her cheeks turning a bright pink. “And I’m a grown woman. It wasn’t anybody’s doing but my own.” She insisted.

A grown woman. She was twenty-two. That was barely more than a child in Anders mind. He didn’t say that, merely raised an eyebrow. “Entirely your own doing?” He asked and her blush deepened, which he wouldn’t have thought possible just a moment ago.

“Yes, fine, there was someone else involved, obviously there was someone else or we wouldn’t be dealing with this right now.” She admitted. “But Isabela never even saw him. She and Zev had disappeared at that point.”

He was definitely going to throttle Isabela when they got home. “So who was he?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, which did nothing to help Anders’ state of mind. “Annie?” He prompted.

“I don’t know. “ She confessed.

For a moment Anders could only gape at her. “I’m sorry. I’m going to need a bit more than that. You don’t know, or you don’t remember?” Had she been that drunk? Annie drinking to excess didn’t happen very often but when it did it was…impressive. It had entertained the hell out of him the handful of times he had seen it, but it didn’t seem nearly so funny right now.

“We’d crashed this masquerade ball at the Ritz.” She explained. “It had been planned from the beginning apparently, we had costumes and masks and everything. We just walked in as if we owned the place.” A smile curved her lips at the memory.

All right, dressing up and sneaking into a fancy masquerade ball sounded exactly like something Annie would do. He couldn’t fault Isabela for that. 

“Dare I ask about the costumes?” 

Her smile deepened enough that he glimpsed the dimple at the corner of her mouth. “Well Zev was dressed as a Crow Assassin, and Isabela a sexy pirate.”

“Of course she was.” Anders muttered. “And you?” 

She laughed. “I paid tribute to Antiva and went as Asha Campana. I had this great dress – emerald green, with a low cut bodice that laced up the front and pushed everything up and together so that it even looked like I had boobs.” She gave him a pleased smile. “I looked hot. Really hot.” She informed him.

“Apparently so.” Anders remarked dryly. “You do know Asha Campana is called the Queen Mother of Thedas because of all the children she had and married off to almost every royal house that existed at the time.”

She frowned at him.

“I’m just saying it’s a bit ironic under the circumstances.”

Her frown deepened.

He hid his smile. “Forget I mentioned it. Go on with your story. You’d crashed the party…” He prompted.

She smiled, remembering. “I couldn’t believe we actually pulled it off, but we did. No one had any idea that we weren’t supposed to be there. It was so much fun, and it was beautiful – the ballroom and the music and the candlelight, like something out of a fairy tale. Almost everyone was in costume like us, though a few were just in evening gowns and tuxedos, but everyone wore masks and it gave it this almost surreal feeling, like we’d stepped into a fairy tale or a Fade dream or something. We danced, and drank, and ate. Isabela and Zevran were incorrigible and completely determined that I enjoy myself. Champagne was flowing like water, and they were flirting like mad, with each other, with me, with almost everyone, and that was fun too, though I did get some rather peculiar offers, but I just laughed them off, and no one took offense. Somewhere along the line I lost track of Isabela and Zevran but by then it was getting late, so I thought I’d better look for them and that was when I saw him, standing there watching me.” She had a half smile on her face, and seemed almost starry-eyed. “He told me later that he’d been watching me for most of the evening. That he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.”

 _Creep_ , thought Anders, though he couldn’t deny that he had the same problem when he’d first met Annie Hawke.

“Our eyes met and he began to walk towards me. He was probably the most graceful man I’ve ever seen. It almost seemed as if he was moving in slow motion and all I could do was stand there. He didn’t speak when he reached me, just took my hand and slipped his arm around my waist and swept me onto the dance floor.”

He couldn’t believe he was standing here listening to this drivel. He shouldn’t have let her go. He should have kept her home where she belonged, with him.

_What?_

“It sounds like one of those trashy romance novels you insist on reading.” Anders told her, trying to figure out just what had produced that reaction.

“I know!” She agreed. “That was exactly I was thinking at the time.” Her lips had curved into a smile at his remark. “He was tall and handsome – at least what I could see of his face with the mask he wore – he had a beautiful mouth anyway. We danced and danced, and ended up in a corner of the balcony and he kissed me and… it was amazing.” She looked at him with an awed expression. “I’ve never been kissed like that, not ever.”

 _Great_.

“And then he invited me up to his room. He said he hadn’t done anything like this in years and he probably shouldn’t be doing it now but…”

“But you were impossible resist and he had to have you.” Anders finished the sentence, shaking his head.

Her scowl let him know that he’d come close. “It wasn’t like that.” She insisted. “He wasn’t like that.” But her voice trailed off and her smile had disappeared. 

He’d planted some doubts in her mind. It hadn’t been his intention.

Not really.

“And you didn’t learn anything about him? Not even something as basic as, I don’t know, his name?” He tried and failed to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Of course he wasn’t trying very hard. He couldn’t believe she’d fallen for it.

“He never said. I never asked.” Her voice was distant. 

She was thinking about him, that man, about that night when she’d gone to bed with a complete stranger. She seemed to have no inkling of the risk she’d taken. This pregnancy paled in comparison to what might have happened to her.

“Maker’s tits, Annie!” He got to his feet and began pacing. “Of all the reckless, irresponsible behavior – even for you…” He wasn’t quite shouting but he was getting there.

“Well, we were a little busy!” She snapped back at him. 

“A little busy.” Anders muttered. “Unbelievable.”

Her cheeks flushed, this time with anger. “It wasn’t just his name, either. I never even saw his face!”

Anders frowned, not understanding.

Annie didn’t hesitate to enlighten him. “We kept the masks on the whole time! And you know what? It was hot! It was possibly the most erotic thing I’ve ever done!”

For a moment he couldn’t speak. Hell, he could barely even think. Images flooded his brain. _Holy Maker_. He really hadn’t needed the visual to go with the story. 

“I was swept off my feet.” She continued. “I know how feeble that sounds. And I know how stupid and reckless it was.” Her voice cracked and her hand moved to cover her abdomen once more. “I know, okay? Just stop yelling at me or I’m going to lose it completely.” She threatened. She flung herself back into the chair again, looking miserable, and scared and so bloody young.

His anger vanished. He sat down beside her and took her hands again. 

She let him, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“Annie, sweetheart.”

She slowly raised eyes that were a little too bright and far too wary.

“I’m sorry.” He said simply. “I was frightened. I don’t like thinking what might have happened to you.That anything could have happened to you. Forgive me.”

After a moment she nodded her head.

“Tell me what happened in the morning.” He asked quietly.

She gave a small snort. “When I woke up he was in the shower and I snuck out of the room and left. Turns out I’m less of a wanton woman and more of a complete and utter coward.” She said glumly.

“Have you tried to find him?” Anders asked. What if she did find him? What if she did and this smooth bastard with his sweeping, and his mask, and his inability to resist her … what if he had been sincere? What if he went right on sweeping and Maferath’s Balls, what if he wanted Annie and this baby both? Because Maker knew, if it was him in the same situation…

Annie was answering him and he forced himself to pay attention.

“It’s an impossible feat I’m afraid. I don’t know his name; I didn’t even get the number of the hotel room. I could take out an ad I suppose; one of those lost loves/missed opportunities things. Come and claim the unexpected Satinalia souvenir from your vacation in Antiva.” 

His panic receded. “He wasn’t Antivan, then?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m pretty sure about that. His Antivan was good, but he had a definite accent. Free Marches I think. Maybe Fereldan?”

“You were speaking in Antivan to each other?” Obviously.

“I was in Antiva.” She pointed out. “Speaking Antivan seemed the sensible thing to do.” 

He hadn’t even known she knew the language, let alone knowing it well enough to detect that someone else spoke it with an accent. “I thought you’d abandoned all sense when you crossed the border.”

She gave him a withering look. “Oh, yes. If only there were some kind of consequence for my poor life choices to teach me the lesson I so richly deserve.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Sorry. I really don’t mean to be such a bastard. You’ve just taken me completely by surprise.” 

She was pregnant. The father was out of the picture. She was young and scared, and whatever else she was to him (and he’d been trying to figure that out for the last several months), she was his friend. She needed him and he would be there for her. “All right.” He said with renewed determination, and pushed himself to his feet.

She looked up at him, puzzled. “All right?” She repeated.

He took her hands and pulled her upright. “Let’s get to it. We’ll do some bloodwork and then an ultrasound and see just what we’ve got in there.” 

She seemed relieved to have him take charge. For the first time since she’d arrived he caught a glimpse of the dimple at the corner of her mouth. “We’re hoping for a baby, right?” She asked with something of her usual spirit. 

He grinned back at her. “That is the optimal result, yes.” She’d be fine, he thought with some relief. She could do this. She was Annie Hawke: there hadn’t been a challenge she didn’t meet head on in the almost three years he’d known her. Yes, he thought looking at her. She would be just fine.

And as he watched, her face crumpled and she began to cry, as if some sort of switch had been flipped, great gasping sobs. 

His response was automatic. He gathered her in his arms and held her close and she burrowed up against him winding her hands into his shirt, and, Maker, nothing had ever felt so perfect. “It’ll be all right, Annie.” He promised. “You’re not alone in this. I’ll be right here with you, through the whole thing. I’m not going anywhere.”

He was true to his word. He was with her when they told the others, and when she told her mother. He was with her at every doctor’s appointment.

He was there the first time the baby kicked, which was the first time he kissed her. 

He didn’t know which of them was more surprised. He did know that he wanted to do it again and so he did and she kissed him back and he didn’t stop kissing her until he felt her tears on his face.

He pulled back and looked at her, brushing the tears away. “Don’t cry.” He whispered.

“How long have you wanted to do that?” She asked.

“Months.” He told her. “Years.” He bent his head and kissed her again, catching her full upper lips between his, the way he’d wanted to for so long now. 

She pulled away suddenly, and the tears were flowing faster. “How can you like me? How can you want me like this?” She asked waving her hand in front of her. 

He wasn’t sure if she was talking about her appearance, or her pregnancy or how the pregnancy had happened, but it didn’t matter because whichever it was, the answer was the same. “Because I love you.” He told her. “Because you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Because you’re brilliant and talented and warm and giving and I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you, wearing one of Carver’s baggy sweaters and with your hair pinned up with a chopstick. Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Because for three years I’ve lain awake at night aching for you, wanting you.” 

She reached out and touched him, his cheek and then his mouth and this time it was she who initiated the kiss. “Why didn’t you say that before now?”

He stroked her hair back from her face. “It took me a while to realize it. I can be a bit thick at times.”

She laughed through her tears. “That is true.” She leaned her forehead against his. “You know that I love you too, right? You aren’t that thick, are you?” 

He leaned forward and kissed her again. “I’d begun to suspect it.” And it was true.

He’d seen it in a hundred glances, and small touches, and smiles. Her eyes sought him out when she came into the room and her face lit up when she saw him, and he knew his did the same. They were scarcely apart these days. This baby, a boy they’d learned just the day before, had brought them together, had given him the push he needed. Who knew how long he would have dithered without him?

They made love for the first time a few days later, and it was everything that Anders had dreamed of all those years, and far, far more.

Afterwards they lay there in the dark of Annie’s bedroom, a bedroom they’d been sharing (albeit chastely) with increasing frequency since the day she’d told him she was pregnant. She was lying on her side and he was behind her his taller frame curled possessively around hers, his arm wrapped around her belly. He smiled as the baby kicked and moved beneath his hand.

“Annie.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

He thought she might be asleep but her hand reached down and covered his own. “Hmm?” She murmured.

“When the time comes, would you let me put my name on the birth certificate?

Her breath hitched and she shifted onto her back, staring up at him, her eyes huge in the dark. “You’re sure?” She asked.

He smiled down at her. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

 

 _Two years later_.

Sebastian Vael stepped out of the Golden Stag, one of Kirkwall’s finest restaurants, and looked around. It was a beautiful spring day and the Chantry Plaza was full of people, businessman, tourists and a few parents with their children, all taking advantage of the open space and the perfect weather.

He turned to his companion, holding out his hand. “Nathaniel, it’s been a pleasure. Let’s not wait another three years to do it.”

Nathaniel Howe smiled and shook his hand and Sebastian marveled at the change it produced in his features. “Agreed. And if you’re ever in Amaranthine…”

“I’ll be sure to look you up.” Sebastian said, and then started suddenly when something ran into his legs and grabbed him around the knees. He looked down in surprise.

It was a small boy, with a mop of red curls and bright blue eyes grinning up at him. He had a dimple in one cheek. “Hi!” He said loudly.

Sebastian couldn’t help smiling. “Hello, there.” He looked helplessly at Nathaniel, entirely uncertain what to do next.

“You seem to have made a friend.” Nathaniel commented dryly, not bothering to hide his smile.

“Up!” The toddler demanded, holding up his arms.

Sebastian hesitated, and then reached down and picked him up, holding him in what felt like an incredibly awkward way, but it didn’t seem to bother the boy in the slightest. 

He stared solemnly at Sebastian for a moment and then poked a finger at Sebastian’s face. “Nose.” He announced.

Nathaniel started laughing and Sebastian shot him a warning look. 

“Yes, that’s my nose.” Sebastian agreed. _Where on Thedas was the child’s mother?_

“Eye!” The boy announced and Sebastian only just managed to catch his hand before the small finger went into his eye.

“Yes, and I’d like to keep it.” He said wryly.

The boy tilted his head and looked at Sebastian considering him carefully. “Blue.” He proclaimed and reached out his hand again, but Sebastian was better prepared this time and caught it before it came near his eyes.

“Yes, young sir, my eyes are blue, just like yours.” He agreed.

“Malcolm!” A man’s voice, loud, but the relief in it was plain, and Sebastian looked over to see a fair haired man in jeans and a t-shirt running towards them. 

Malcolm, for apparently that was the boy’s name turned and saw him. “Da!” He yelled and began squirming in Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian quickly put him down and he ran straight for his father who scooped him up in his arms.

“Maferath’s Balls, Malcolm! You can’t run off like that!”

“Balls!” Malcolm shouted happily.

“Monster.” His father told him. “You’re going to get me in trouble with your mother.” He swung the boy over his head, placing him neatly on his shoulders and walked towards Sebastian and Nathaniel with an easy smile on his face.

“Thank you for catching him.” He said. “He’d probably be halfway to Sundermount by now. He’s something of an escape artist these days and his latest feat has been escaping his stroller and making a run for it.” He’d started out looking at Sebastian but turned to Nathaniel as he finished. He stared for a moment and then shook his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be. Nathaniel Howe. You’re the last person I expected to see today.”

Nathaniel’s mouth had fallen open in surprise. “Anders? You’re living in Kirkwall now?”

“For four years now. No, almost five actually. I’m working down at the Warden Clinic in Lowtown.” The boy had started squirming and with a practiced hand, Anders swung him off his shoulders, and dangled him upside down. He turned to Sebastian with a friendly smile.. “Anders. Nathaniel and I were at medical school together.” 

“Sebastian Vael. Your son’s quite the charmer.”

Anders laughed. “He gets that entirely from his mother.”

“I can’t believe you’re a father.” Nathaniel commented. “Or that you remarried. “

Anders smile broadened. “I am and I did. It’s marvelous to see you, Nathaniel. Look, I’ve got to run now, but how long are you in town for?”

“Just until tomorrow.” Nathaniel started to say, but Anders cut him off.

“Good! It’s Annie’s birthday and we’re having a bash down at the Hanged Man tonight. It’s just across from the Lowtown Market. Come and meet her, she’s amazing. Any time after six. Sebastian, you’re welcome as well.”

Nathaniel gave him a dubious look. “Your wife won’t mind your bringing two total strangers to her birthday party?” 

Anders just laughed. “Annie? Not a bit. The more the merrier as far as she’s concerned.” He turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Sebastian turned to look at Nathaniel and found him staring after his friend looking utterly perplexed.

“I never thought I’d see it.” Nathaniel said, shaking his head. “Anders was a confirmed bachelor when I first met him and then married on a whim and divorced within six months. He swore off all women and marriage after that. And look at him now. I’ve got to meet this wife of his.” He glanced at Sebastian. “Do you want to come?”

Sebastian frowned. “Oh, I don’t think my invitation was serious. Surely he was just being polite.”

Nathaniel laughed. “Trust me, Anders never does anything just to be polite. I can’t believe he’s settled down with a wife and a child.” He gave Sebastian a curious look. “Do you ever think about it?” He asked.

Sebastian had been watching Anders and the boy leaving the plaza. “Think about what?” 

“Marrying? We’re the same age as Anders, and look at the two of us: living alone, confirmed bachelors. Do you ever think of settling down and having a child? Of finding that perfect woman that you’d be willing to give up your freedom for?”

Unexpectedly Sebastian’s thoughts went to that Satinalia in Antiva, that perfect night, that perfect woman. He’d accepted an impromptu invitation from a business associate and had been there wearing a tuxedo and a simple black mask, wondering how soon he could escape back to his room when he’d seen her. A delicate, exquisite figure, flaming red hair curling down her back, in an emerald gown that only emphasized that flawless white skin. He’d watched her for almost an hour, dancing, laughing flirting outrageously, but with such lighthearted charm that there was nothing vulgar about it. Indeed she seemed to entrance everyone who came near her. 

He’d just made the decision to approach her when she’d turned and seen him, and the minute their eyes met, everything had seemed to go still. He’d begun walking towards her, not sure he could have stopped if he wanted to and when he’d reached her, instead of introducing himself he’d taken her hand and slipped his arm around her waist and they’d both shivered at the contact, before he whisked her onto the dancefloor. They danced, staring at each other. She too wore a mask, but hers was of gold filigree, as delicate as the rest of her. It covered the upper two thirds of her face but left her mouth bare, rose colored lips, the upper lip fuller than the lower, just asking to be tasted, and with that realization he swept her out onto the balcony and kissed her, and it was like no kiss he’d ever experienced. They were both breathing hard when it ended, and he reached down and brushed his finger across it. 

“I don’t even know your name.” He’d said softly, in Antivan.

Her eyes had suddenly twinkled in the dim light. “Asha Campana.” She’d told him with a mischievous smile, holding out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.” She’d responded in the same language, her pronunciation perfect, far better than his. Was she a native of the country?

He’d taken her hand, pressing a kiss to the back, and wondering what she’d say if she knew he counted Queen Asha among his ancestors. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.” He’d turned her hand over and pressed his lips to her palm, feeling her shiver again.

With a recklessness he’d thought he’d given up years before he’d brought her back to his room, undressing her, kissing and caressing each bit of skin as he uncovered it but when he’d reached for the ribbons of her mask she’d stopped him. 

“No.” She’d whispered. “Let’s leave them on.”

The image of her naked in his bed, that magnificent hair spread out around her wearing nothing but that mask flashed through his mind, and he’d agreed.

It had been one of the most erotic experiences of his life. 

She’d fallen asleep in his arms afterwards, flushed, her hair damp with perspiration, curled up around him. He’d tugged off his own mask, tossing it on the night table, and then gently untied hers, and when he’d seen her face, his breath had caught.

She was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. 

He thought it again the next morning when the sun rose filling the room with light. And he lay there, utterly content, watching her sleep. 

He didn’t even know her name, he’d thought as he watched her, but he would remedy that. He had slipped out of bed, pausing to order breakfast from room service, and had stepped into the shower. When she woke, he’d learn everything about her.

But when he’d stepped out of the opulent bathroom, she’d been gone, and she hadn’t left a clue as to her identity; the only thing left behind was that delicate gold mask. 

It was one of the greatest regrets of his life. 

“Yes, I think about it.” He admitted.

Nathaniel smiled. “You always were a romantic under that playboy exterior. Come tonight. Perhaps Anders wife has a sister.”

Sebastian laughed. “Perhaps I will, after all.” They walked towards the Chantry building. “The boy was cute.” He said suddenly.

Nathaniel laughed. “You would think so.” He said. At Sebastian’s puzzled look he laughed again. “He looked just like you, Sebastian.”

Sebastian frowned. “Do you think so? I can’t say I see it.”

“The hair? The eyes?” Nathaniel suggested. 

Sebastian thought about it. “No, I don’t see it.”

“Well come along tonight and we’ll take a second look.” Nathaniel suggested.

Sebastian laughed. “Why not? As you said, perhaps this paragon of a wife has a sister.”


	2. Is He Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after her birthday party, Sebastian confronts Annie about Malcolm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since posting the first part of this I've gotten a few other prompts for the same story which I've posted on tumblr, but for continuity's sake I thought I'd add them on here. 
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> ('Enjoy' may be the wrong word as the subsequent stories add some angst, and are the perfect example of why I shouldn't be allowed to write sequels.)

Sebastian paid the driver and stepped out of the cab, staring at the door of the Hanged Man, still not certain if he was doing the right thing, but after a sleepless night he had come to one certain conclusion: he needed to know.

Annie looked up from the table she was setting as he walked in and smiled when she saw him. 

Maker she was lovely. Even more so than she had been in Antiva. 

“Sebastian! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” She laughed. “I’m sorry: that sounded awful. Did you forget something last night?”

He’d stayed at the party until the very end, though he’d probably been the dullest guest there, barely speaking, trying desperately to process that fact it was her, the girl in Antiva, after more than two years. As he’d been tossing and turning in his bed the previous night he’d suddenly remembered her saying she was working the lunch shift today, covering for a friend who was away.

He looked around the restaurant. The other server had just stepped into the kitchen, so they were alone. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and put the mask on the table between them. “No.” He said. “But you did.” 

She stared at the delicate gold mask, and then her eyes flashed to his face, his eyes first, and then his mouth, and then back to the mask. Some of her color seemed to leave her face and she reached out a shaking hand. 

“Is he mine?” Sebastian asked, his voice low and rough with emotion.

Annie went even paler, and crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

“Shit!” Varric Tethras ran up to them dropping to his knees and lifting Annie so she was halfway on his lap. “Norah! Get me some water, and then run upstairs and get Blondie.” He looked up at Sebastian. “You look as if you’re about to join her.” He commented. “It’s nothing I’m sure. She probably just forgot to eat breakfast or forgot to eat enough breakfast.” He muttered glancing down at her.

Sebastian gave him a confused look.

“They haven’t told many people yet.” Varric explained. “She’s pregnant again.”


	3. A Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian has a son.

Annie paused at the door that led to the patio of the Hanged Man trying to calm down, for the baby’s sake if nothing else. 

She couldn’t believe she had fainted, like some kind of feeble heroine in a Dragon Age era romance. She’d let Anders and Dagna think that she hadn’t eaten and that’s what had caused it. She had of course; she was starving when she woke up in the morning these days.

She didn’t want to think about why she’d lied about it.

Dagna had examined her thoroughly, even acquiescing to Anders’ demands for an ultrasound. Everything had been fine, though her blood pressure had been higher than Dagna had liked, which had sent Anders into another panic as he ran through a list of increasingly improbable reasons for it.

Strangely enough ‘my son’s birth father just showed up while I was setting the tables at The Hanged Man” hadn’t been on that list.

She’d been ordered to go home, eat something and then take it easy for the remainder of the day. 

She leaned forward, resting her head against the door, wondering what on Thedas was going to happen next. The chances of all four of them (five if you counted the baby) getting through this unscathed was pretty much an impossibility. She’d figured that much at least.

Anders had borrowed Lirene’s car to drive her back, staying parked at the curb, in spite of objections of the cars behind him, until she’d stepped inside the bar.

Sebastian hadn’t been there and she’d sagged with relief until Varric had informed her that he had volunteered to watch Malcolm until she got back, and the two of them were out on the patio. 

She’d been unable to hide her reaction to that bit of news, and Varric, thinking she was angry he’d left her son with a relative stranger had sought to mollify her, telling her that Malcolm seemed to adore Sebastian and apparently the feeling was mutual, and seeing how he was short staffed and the guy was a pillar of the community he hadn’t thought she’d mind. 

“Of course not.” She’d mumbled. “You’re right. It makes perfect sense.”

Varric had given her a suspicious look, but had told her to go on out there; he’d have Norah bring her something to eat. 

There was no putting it off any more. Taking a deep breath she pushed the door open and stepped out on to the patio, her heart pounding.

She spotted them immediately, sitting at a table in the corner. There was a high chair at the table, but it was unused, Sebastian had Malcolm on his lap. Malcolm was chattering away, feeding Sebastian the occasional goldfish cracker from a bowl of them that sat on the table and Sebastian was playing along, accepting the offerings and watching him with a look of fascinated wonder. Malcolm laughed, making Sebastian laugh too, and Annie’s breath caught in her throat.

They looked so much alike she couldn’t help a quick look around to make sure nobody else had noticed. 

Sebastian couldn’t have said why he looked up at that moment but he did, and there she was, standing by the patio doors. 

Wearing faded jeans and the red Hanged Man t-shirt that all the wait staff wore, with her hair tied back in a high ponytail she looked far too young to be the mother of a two year old. Frankly, he’d been relieved when he’d learned the previous night that she was celebrating her twenty-fourth birthday. He’d worried she been little more than a teenager during their encounter in Antiva.

Their eyes met. For a moment time seemed to stop and then she gave him an uncertain smile and wanting to reassure her, he smiled back. It seemed to work: she took a deep breath and began walking towards them. Sebastian stood, still holding Malcolm in his arms.

_Dear Maker, she was beautiful._

He’d thought it last night, just as he’d thought it the first time he’d seen her in Antiva: beautiful, even with her face half hidden by the mask she’d worn. He’d watched her from across the ballroom, her flaming red hair streaming loose down her back and her perfectly pale skin revealed by the low cut gown she’d worn. He’d watched the grace with which she moved, watched her laughing and flirting with half a dozen men (not so very unusual for a Satinalia ball, and certainly not for one taking place in Antiva). She’d stood out from the others; young and fresh, and unspoiled, her delight at being there showing in every smile, and every laugh, and every gesture. He, like the men flocking around her, had been utterly enchanted.

Over the course of the past few years he’d tried to tell himself he’d exaggerated it, or the setting had. He knew now he’d been lying to himself. It wasn’t a beautifully decorated ballroom, or exotic Antiva, or the wildness of a Satinalia celebration that had made her seem so special. It was simply her.

He’d realized it the moment he’d seen her last night, in the middle of a rundown tavern in the heart of Lowtown, blowing out the candles on her cake and looking up laughing, the moment he’d seen her and instantly recognized her, though she’d failed to do the same.

It was simply her, simply who she was: Annie Hawke.

He knew her name now: Annie Hawke, Anabel, she’d told him when he pressed her; a name he thought suited her far better.

Anabel Hawke, the mother of his child: having spent the last hour and a half with the boy he was thoroughly convinced of it.

Malcolm spotted her and leaned forward holding out both arms. “Mama!” 

That uncertain smile changed to something else, something that lit up her whole face as she took Malcolm from him from Sebastian’s arms and gave him a hug. “How’s my favorite boy?” She asked him.

“Malcolm!” He proclaimed loudly. He grabbed his mother’s face between his hands and gave her a very noisy, very wet kiss.

“So I see.” Annie said with a laugh. She smiled up at Sebastian. “He gets his interrogatives mixed up these days,” she explained. “Please, sit.”

“Only if you’ll join me.” 

His voice with its Starkhaven accent sent a shiver down her spine. There had been just the barest hint of it in the Antivan they’d spoken that night, but she hadn’t suspected it would be this pronounced. Memories of that night flooded through her brain, making her cheeks grow hot. She could only hope he wouldn’t notice, or if he did that he wouldn’t comment on it.

“I will, thank you. Varric’s sending me out something to eat: doctor’s orders.” She slipped into the chair Sebastian was holding and settled Malcolm on her lap. He leaned his head against her chest, perfectly content, and almost immediately his eyes began to drift closed. “He’s overdue for a nap.” She commented stroking his curls. “I hope he wasn’t too cranky?”

Sebastian’s looked the boy, and his whole face softened. “No. He’s perfect.”

“Yes, he is.” Annie agreed. “Thank you for watching him.”

He raised those impossibly blue eyes to hers. “It was my pleasure,” he said. “And the very least I could do.” He’d been horrified when she’d crumpled to the floor like, knowing that he was the one who’d caused it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. It certainly wasn’t my intention.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “It was… unexpected to say the least, but you’d had a shock of your own. “

“You’re all right though? Everything’s all right?” 

“Yes.” She murmured, realizing that someone must have told him that she was pregnant. “I’m fine. We’re both fine.” She bent her head and kissed Malcolm’s curls, darker than her own, but lighter than Sebastian’s. He was sound asleep now and she rested her cheek on the top of his head for a moment. “He’s your son.” She said finally raising her head. “Of course you probably knew that if you looked in the mirror this morning: he looks just like you. I used to wonder if he did. I thought he had your mouth…” Her voice trailed off and she finally dared to look up at him.

He was watching Malcolm and there were tears in his eyes. He reached out a shaking hand and brushed his fingers against Malcolm’s cheek and she felt her own eyes begin to sting.

“I’m sorry you only just learned of it.” She said in a rush. “I didn’t know how to reach you. I didn’t even know your name.”

“I know.” He said, raising his eyes to hers. “I’d seen your face but you fell asleep before you could see mine.” He remembered lying beside her that morning, marveling at how lovely she was. “You left.” He said simply. “I wish you hadn’t.”

She flushed again at the memory of that night. “I panicked. I’d never done anything like that before. I’d never felt that way. I know that sounds like a line but…”

He interrupted her. “I think we can both agree that night was exceptional for both of us.” 

She could feel herself blushing. “Exceptional. Yes, that does seem to cover it.” 

Much to her relief Norah chose that moment to come over with her food, putting it down in front of her, along with a glass of milk. “Varric says you’re to eat everything and drink all of the milk or he’s going to call Anders and tell him.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Tell him I said ‘Thanks, Dad’ and that he’s a snitch and a tattletale.”

Norah laughed and left them.

Anders name seemed to hang in the air. 

Annie ignored the food in front of her and as Sebastian watched she ran her finger over her wedding band, a worried frown wrinkling her brow. 

For just a moment he had forgotten she was married and he couldn’t help wondering if she had as well.

“Were you with him before Antiva?” It was an impertinent question. Downright rude if he was perfectly honest but he needed to know.

If she was offended it didn’t show. He watched as her whole face softened thinking of her husband and it was almost worse than if she had taken offense. 

“No. We were friends, best friends, but we weren’t lovers.”

“When did that change?” Another intrusive question.

“When I found out I was pregnant. He was there for me when I needed someone most. And one morning I looked at him and knew that I loved him.” A smile curved her lips.

Sebastian wanted to hate him, but how could he? A man who willingly took on the responsibility of raising another man’s child, and by doing so had won her love.

He felt cheated somehow. Had he known, he would have been there for her, would have done anything for her, and for their unborn child.

If he had been there would she have loved him then? “I looked for you." He told her. "I even hired detectives.” 

The unspoken question was left lingering. _Did you look for me?_

And she answered it as if he had said it out loud. “I went back to the hotel, but I didn’t get far. I’d forgotten the room number. I didn’t know your name, or even what you looked like. Given who you are they probably thought I was some sort of stalker. Really, they’re to be commended for not letting me near you.” She said lightly. “And I was heading back home that morning anyway.”

“That would explain it then. I spent the morning trying unsuccessfully to find out who you were, and when I couldn’t I told the concierge if anyone of your description asked about me to give them my name and phone number.”

She stared at him. “We must have just missed each other.”

“Yes.” She hadn’t touched her food. “You should eat something.”

She picked up a French fry, toyed with it and put it back down. 

“You didn’t try again when you did found out you were pregnant?”

“It had been months, and I didn’t have the money for detectives, and once I knew for certain I needed all the money I had for Malcolm.” Her voice trailed off, and she thought not of Malcolm but of the child she carried now. Anders had been so happy when they’d found out she was pregnant again. They hadn’t been trying, not exactly, but they hadn’t been not trying either. The last two years with him had been…

“These past two years you’ve been my fantasy.” Sebastian said suddenly his voice low and strangely urgent. “You’ve been my what if. What if you hadn’t left? What if I’d woken you to make love to yet again instead of leaving you sleeping? I stood in that shower that morning making plans for us, not just for the day, but for weeks. I thought about bringing you back to Kirkwall and introducing you my friends. I imagined showing you my house, my work, my whole life.” 

And just for a moment she could see it, everything he described and she pushed it aside, forcing herself to think of the life she had now, of waking up in the morning to Malcolm’s climbing into bed with them, of Anders face, laughing while pretending to be asleep as Malcolm poked and shook him and said _Wake up Da_ , of walks in the park, and trips to the zoo, of quiet evenings at home, the three of them on the couch, reading stories out loud. 

It was all going to change now.

She could feel the panic rising. “No.” She said shaking her head. “That was just a morning after fantasy.”

“I thought about it yesterday after I met Malcolm in the Plaza. I looked at him with your husband and I thought, that’s what I want and I thought of you, before I ever knew that you were his mother and I was his father. The irony of it is almost too perfect.” He couldn't keep the trace of bitterness from his voice.

She shook her head. “I’m married to another man, a man I love, I have a child, and another on the way."

“You have my child.” He reminded her.

She shook her head again, more vehemently this time. “Anders is the only father he’s known. We’re happy. Malcolm’s happy; you’ve seen how happy he is. Couldn’t you…I know it’s an awful thing to ask, I know how selfish I’m being, but for the sake of my family, for Malcolm’s sake, couldn’t you…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. 

As Sebastian watched a tear overflowed and trickled down her cheek. He knew what she was asking without her having to finish the sentence. Couldn’t he pretend he’d never found her, found them. Couldn’t he leave her to this life she had, this family she’d built for herself.

_Could he?_

After a moment, he pushed back his chair and crouched down beside her, reaching up and brushing away the tear, before stroking Malcolm’s red curls as he lay sleeping against her chest, utterly content. 

Could he turn Malcolm’s world upside down? A tear fell on the back of his hand and when he looked up she was crying, silently.

In another time, under different circumstances, if he had turned right instead of left, if he had stayed in that bed instead of stepping into that shower, they could have been together. He could be taking his leave of them now, returning to his office, telling her _I love you_ and hearing her say _I love you too_ and _I’ll see you at home._

 _If..._

He kissed the top of Malcolm’s head and stood. Their eyes met and time seemed to stop. 

_Please_ , she thought. _Please let me have my family._

His eyes softened as he looked at her, and she began to hope. He bent suddenly, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. He heard her gasp, and prolonged the kiss just long enough to feel her lips soften beneath his, and then he pulled away and stood looking at her, his eyes filled with regret.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” He said, and turned and walked away, through the restaurant, not looking back, pulling out his phone before he was even through the front door. 

“Leora.” He said when his secretary answered. “Set up a meeting with my lawyer at my office. Yes, today, as soon as possible. Cancel any appointments you need to. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He disconnected the call.

He had a son.


	4. His Greatest Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from a prompt on tumblr, "someone's greatest fear" asking specifically for the Anders from this universe.

Anders walked into Malcolm’s room without turning on the light: he didn’t need to. He knew where every toy was, every dresser corner, every edge of the rug that you might trip over in the middle of the night. 

Malcolm was lying on his stomach in his new big boy bed, his head to one side and his knees bent, his bottom sticking straight up in the air. Anders couldn’t help smiling as he gently pulled his legs straight. 

Malcolm let out a little snuffle of a sound but didn’t wake.

Anders knew how to do that too, settle him without waking him up. Malcolm thrashed around in his sleep as much as Annie did.

_It’s Sebastian Vael. He’s Malcolm’s biological father._

She’d been so careful to phrase it that way, looking up at him, her face tear stained, apologetic, guilty even.

He lowered himself to the ground, so he was at face level with Malcolm, watching him sleep, close enough so he could feel his soft breath when he exhaled. He was a beautiful child, had been since the day he was born, but how could he help it, with Annie as his mother.

And with Sebastian Vael as his father.

_I think he’s going to want to play a part in Malcolm’s life._

Play a part. 

Anders hadn’t played a part. He’d been there Malcolm’s whole life: he’d been there for colic, and teething, for his first smile, and his first laugh, he’d taken him for his first haircut, and held his hands when he stood for the first time, and when he’d taken his first steps it had been to reach him, to fling himself into Anders’ outstretched arms. 

When Annie had been pregnant, he been afraid of this mysterious father, afraid that he might appear. When he’d put his name down on the birth certificate as Malcolm’s father, he’d had a moment of uneasiness, but by the time he and Annie had married just a few months after Malcolm’s birth he’d stopped worrying about it. For the past two and a half years he’d been completely and utterly happy, with his life, with Annie, with his son, with the new baby they were expecting, had been downright smug with his happiness, pitying other people who hadn’t been so lucky.

Pitying Nathaniel and his wealthy friend, Sebastian Vael, inviting them to Annie’s birthday to show off his perfect life.

_It’s Sebastian Vael. He’s Malcolm’s biological father._

His eyes prickled with tears, and he closed them tight even as he reached out and slipped his fingers around Malcolm’s small hand, feeling his son’s fingers automatically curve around his own. 

_His son_ , he told himself. _Malcom was his son._

He’d never been more frightened in his life.


End file.
